


Your Choice Not Mine

by Sundown_Winter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6149770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sundown_Winter/pseuds/Sundown_Winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think I should have never been a reason for you to make a choice.  I’m sorry I ever brought this doubt into your life.”</p><p>Fenris wanted Sebastian to choose.  Right up until he really did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Choice Not Mine

“You wanted to see me?” 

Fenris was pulled out of his thoughts by the familiar brogue behind him, turning his head enough to look at the red-haired man stepping out through the front doors of the Chantry.  The elf was sitting on the stone steps leading up to the grand entrance, bouncing one foot slightly in a nervous habit he’d never quite shaken. 

And Sebastian...well, it never failed to surprise Fenris to see the man wearing anything but his shining white armor, but he had to admit it was hardly conducive to comfort.  Especially considering Sebastian had returned from the Wounded Coast just two days before, soaked in blood.  The lost prince had traded his battle uniform for one of the standard Chantry robes all the brothers wore, though with his bow still worn over it, still prepared for any sudden attacks.  These days in Kirkwall, what with the Knight Enchanter apparently seconds away from snapping at any second, it perhaps wasn’t the worst idea.  Fenris himself didn’t have his sword, but then he’d never needed a weapon to defend himself, and making the short walk across the courtyard to the Chantry didn’t seem worth the effort of lugging the enormous thing along. 

“Yes, I…”  Fenris got to his feet, rubbing at his leg with one hand to clear the bits of debris from the steps.  “Well.  I...had something to speak with you about.  I’ve...heard things.”

“Then let us find a place of more comfort.”  Sebastian stepped closer, threading an arm through Fenris’s, as though to escort the elf.  As though Fenris was someone deserving of being properly escorted anywhere, rather than just following or followed at a distance, to spare others of the blood and death usually around him.  “The bench down here by the Chanter’s board, would that do?” 

“It is unnecessary.”

“Nonsense.  You take so little comfort for yourself, Fenris, at least allow me to offer you some when I can.”  Sebastian’s smile was bright enough to blot out the sun at the best of times, even this gentle little quirk of his mouth made Fenris’s heart skip in an alarming manner.

“Very well, but…”  Fenris’s voice trailed off, overlooking the small courtyard.  People were wandering to and fro, chatting amongst themselves, the nobility of Kirkwall.  Fenris was aware on some low level of the stares and whispers in his direction, as there often were in Hightown.  He was an elf, after all, and not just an elf, but an elf marked in lyrium and wearing what had to have seemed a truly outlandish uniform to the likes of their eyes.  But at least while accompanied by a brother of the Chantry, most were more willing to look away quickly and move about their business. 

“It’s a nice day out today, isn’t it?” Sebastian said, settling himself comfortably and pulling Fenris down to sit with him.  The hesitant protest might as well have never happened for all he paid attention to it, something that Fenris found equal parts endearing and infuriating.  Which pretty much summed up everything about Sebastian, really.

“It...is rather pleasant.”  The sun was shining, the weather was cool without being too cold, and the faint scent of the ocean overlaid the usual stink of any large city just so.  A good enough day as far as Kirkwall went, for certain.

“It’s always more pleasant when you are around, you know,” Sebastian said, chuckling.

Fenris coughed a bit, looking to the side, patting his hands on the bench.  “You are a flatterer.”

“Flattery would imply that I don’t believe what I say.”

Fenris couldn’t help a slight chuckle at that, staring down at the stone beneath them, and there was an easy silence between the two for a few moments.  Sebastian was always content to let Fenris find his words, phrase things in just the way he wanted to.  The man waited patiently even when the elf stammered, stumbled, and occasionally went into a fit at not being able to put his thoughts in order.  He was an infinite well of good humor and cheer that Fenris had all too often dipped from, a warmth and familiarity that Fenris had never known, and felt was all too likely he would never know again.

He swallowed hard, letting out a breath.  “I hear that you have made a decision about your future.”

“Ah.”  Sebastian shifted a little, folding his hands in his lap, looking down at them.  “Well.  I know that there were people who wanted to know.”

“You mean that I wanted to know.”  Fenris knew what it was about.  The two of them had been carrying on with something, some sort of relationship, for nearly a year at this point, after an easy friendship even before that.  Nothing that either had been uncomfortable with, and Maker knew both of them had a thousand hang-ups in every single direction.  But there were enough long evenings spent curled up by the fireplace in Fenris’s run-down hovel of a mansion...Sebastian sitting on the floor, leaning against a sturdy couch, with Fenris settled between his legs with both the man’s arms around him, just laying back against him as they went through books together.  Or when both were exhausted, sipping at a bottle of wine together, sitting on the same couch, Fenris sprawled against one arm as Sebastian leaned against him, an ear to the elf’s chest, tapping out the heartbeats now and then. It was an intimacy that toed the line of Sebastian’s vows, of Fenris’s own fear of being close.  As near as either could dare and yet not nearly enough.

Fenris himself had finally broken the issue open several weeks ago.  “This cannot continue,” he had said, pulling away during one reading lesson.  “We both know it.”

“I know no such thing,” Sebastian had protested, though he’d just sat up where he was, watching Fenris begin to pace.  “We have done nothing wrong.” 

“Not now.  Not yet,” Fenris had answered, voice getting a bit harsher.  “And yet you cannot deny that is something we both want.”

“I want nothing but to be with you.  If this is what you want-,”

“No, this isn’t what I want!  I want you, every part of you!  I don’t want to continue to taunt one another with something that will always be a ghost, a shell of what we both could have!”

“Fenris, I...I know, but with my vows and-,”

“Oh your vows!  You left those behind years ago and still have not chosen to renew them, have you?  You are still hanging yourself between two worlds and refusing the best parts of both, to live in a comfortable, untouchable state in between, never having to make a decision for anything!  Will you have me or not??”

He had regretted the words when they’d come out, but Sebastian hadn’t shown any sign of anger.  He had sighed, tiredly, getting to his feet, just nodding to the elf.  “I think it is best that I return for now,” he had said, and he left without much more of a sound, and Fenris had felt that he had ruined everything just like that.

A message had come the very next morning, however, brought by Donnic.  Clearly Sebastian knew that Fenris would be loathe to accept anyone else at his door, and the guardsman was as friendly as ever, checking on the status of their weekly card game before handing over the parchment and being on his way without a hint of curiosity as to the contents.

There was a reason Fenris liked the man.

The message was short, but said everything he could have wanted it to.   _Just give me some time to decide.  Be patient a little longer and I will have your answer._

And with that it was as though the outburst had never happened.  Fenris and Sebastian met a couple days later when Hawke needed their help to check on some complaints about Aveline, and it was the same as it ever was.  Sebastian smiled brightly and spoke freely and warmly with Fenris, and the elf slowly relaxed and allowed himself to feel as though things were still the same.

On arriving home that evening, Fenris walked Sebastian to the door of the Chantry, as he often did.  And Sebastian...Sebastian had leaned in, and Fenris was being kissed before he realized it, and no longer once he had.  It was fast, the chastest of affections, but even that was enough to make the lost prince’s face color slightly, and he took hold of Fenris’s hand, smiling a little shyly.  “I will let you know.  I swear that." 

And then he was heading inside, and Fenris was standing on the stairs, staring up at the massive doors as they slid shut.  And for a moment he didn’t know what to feel. 

Ever since, then, his emotions had begun to solidify.  What felt like a solid knot of twine had begun to coagulate in his stomach, getting thicker, and heavier, and more impossible to unravel every day.  He said nothing of it, knowing he was nervous, knowing there was something big that was going to be known, one way or another.  He could ignore it.  He could see Sebastian for prayers in the evening without hesitation, they could read curled up together at home without any sign of the shakiness of his limbs. 

Until a couple days ago, during a meeting at the Hanged Man. It was a game between himself, Isabela, Varric, and Anders, while the rest of their crew was off to some excitement on the Wounded Coast and they were seeking to fill the time.

“I hear that Sebastian has been making travel plans,” Anders had said out of nowhere, voice completely neutral as he focused on organizing his handful of cards.

Fenris knew when he was being baited, but fortunately the dwarf stepped in before he could snap at the mage.

“That so, Blondie?  And how exactly do you get your hands on knowledge like that?”

“I have eyes everywhere, Varric,” Anders responded.  “Besides, I had business in the Chantry the other day and I overheard things.”

“What business would you have had in the Chantry?” Isabela asked, quirking up an eyebrow.  “Ohh, let me guess.  You were trying to steal a robe for a naughty nighttime invasion?" 

Anders broke his facade of just-making-conversation enough to give her a bewildered expression.  “None of your business, for what it’s worth.  But suffice it to say there were things said that might not have been if it were known I was in earshot.  Sebastian is organizing things for a trip up north, so it seems.”

Fenris had kept his grip tight on his cards, just staring at them, refusing to give the mage the satisfaction of knowing there was any sort of response.  “That so?” Varric asked, glancing between the two.  “So he’s heading back to Starkhaven I suppose?”

“So it would seem.  Funny though, he’s arranging for enough supplies for at least two people, possibly even more.” 

“Really now?”  And that got Isabela’s attention, her eyebrows perking up immediately as she leaned over the table.  “And what exactly do you make of that, Fenris?”

“Indeed, Fenris,” Anders said, and the faint smug tone in his voice was clear as a bell.  “Sebastian’s throwing away those happy vows of his once and for all, it seems.  Seems that holy life he dedicated himself to wasn’t good enough for someone.”

“Sebastian’s decisions are his own.”  Fenris tried to sound calm, but he couldn’t stop a shake of anger in his voice.

“That’s not what I heard.  Apparently he had an ultimatum he was working under.”  Anders tossed a couple cards into the center of the table.  “Donnic mentioned a note the other day.” 

“Blondie, I don’t think you want to play those cards,” Varric said warningly, reaching out to put a hand on the pile they were working with.  It was clear enough he wasn’t referring to the game. 

“I know what I’m doing.  Of course sometimes I suspect I might be the only one who does.  I certainly haven’t asked any of you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“Being around you is something I am not comfortable with!” Fenris snarled, slamming his hand onto the table.

“And who’s choice is that?  Oh right, it’s your’s, just like your holy boytoy choosing to abandon the meaningful life he led for the likes of you.”

Fenris had to admit he didn’t really remember what happened after that.  The next clear memory he had was being forcibly hauled out by Varric while there was a commotion around them, and the sight of a smirking Anders sitting against the far wall, applying a bit of healing magic to his own bloody nose while Isabela was taking a long drink from a pitcher she’d saved from the flipped table.

And that ball of twine in his stomach felt as though it had completely unraveled.

And now they were here, Sebastian looking expectantly at him, sitting prim and proper in his robe, while Fenris stared at the ground and tried to find the right words.

“It’s all right that you wanted to know, Fenris,” Sebastian finally broke the silence.  “You were right, what you said.  I can’t just live my whole life in a malaise between worlds." 

“You are right about that, at least.”  Fenris blew out a breath.

“And I should make a choice.  I have, you know.  Made one.”  He reached out, warm hand lightly clasping Fenris’s, squeezing it lightly. 

Fenris wanted nothing more than to accept that.  To let Sebastian pull him closer and into an embrace, for the two of them to see… 

He pulled his hand away quickly, standing from the bench, crossing his arms as he looked away.

“Did you really make this decision for yourself?”

“What?  Of course I did, Fenris.  What else would I have done?” 

“You were happy in the Chantry, Sebastian.  You were, no matter how you were waffling in what you had to do, you always went back there.  It’s been your entire life for so long.”

“That doesn’t mean it has to be my whole life forever.”  Sebastian stood as well, reaching out to put a hand to Fenris’s shoulder, gentle as ever.  “I...I do love being in the Chantry, I cannot lie and say I regret any of it, but-,”

“But what?”  Fenris pulled away again, staring at him.  “But you’d rather throw that away because I asked you to?”

“That’s not what you asked me to do, Fenris,” Sebastian said, sounding a little bewildered.  “You asked me to make a choice and I have.” 

“Exactly.  You chose because I asked you to!  Not because you were ready, not because you wanted to, but because I pushed you into it!  That is hardly a choice of your’s!”

“You didn’t force me into anything!”

“And would you be here if I hadn’t said anything??  Would you be planning to throw yourself into Starkhaven without me??”

Sebastian paused, just staring at him.  “Who told you-?”

“So it’s true, then?  You decided to return to Starkhaven, and you’re planning on my accompanying you?" 

“I...I don’t know how you found this all out, Fenris, but...yes, that is what I had...hoped.  I realize perhaps it was a little presumptuous of me but after what you said about what you wanted, I-,”

“And what about what _you_ want?”

Sebastian blinked several times.  “What do you mean by that?”

“Do you truly want this, Sebastian?”  Fenris gestured towards the Chantry with one arm.  “Do you want to give up your home, your refuge of half your life, to go running to a kingdom that barely remembers you with an ex-slave elf at your side?” 

“Fenris, you _asked_ me-!” 

“That’s just it, Sebastian! _I_ asked you!  _I_ forced you into a decision!  My desire for you caused you to come to this, not any effort of your own!”

“That is not what you did!  You encouraged me to make a decision about my life, about my future, and I am choosing this!”

Fenris was quiet for a moment, looking down and to the side for a long moment.  Sebastian said nothing either, standing close, but not reaching out to touch him again, just waiting.  After the quiet pause, Fenris looked back at him.

“I am withdrawing that encouragement.  I do not want you making any decision based about me.” 

“What?  Fenris, it’s-,”

“No.  This is your life, Sebastian, and I am grateful to have been a part of it.  But you choosing something based on what you think I want of you, that is no way for your life to go.  You cannot allow me to dictate that.”

“I’m not doing that!”

“Yes you are.  Sebastian...I should have never let this go as far as it did.  I shouldn’t.” 

“You did not force me into what we have!” 

“But I have forced you into what I want us to have.”  Fenris raised his head, looking the other man right in the eyes.  “And I will not be responsible for you choosing what you do not truly want for my sake.  I won’t be the reason you threw away your life without it being truly your choice.” 

“Fenris, no.”  Sebastian reached out to take his hand again, but startled when the elf’s skin lit up with blue markings, and Sebastian’s hand passed straight through without contact.  “Don’t do that!”

“What I want is for you to be happy, Sebastian,” Fenris answered softly.  “And I have...tempted you away from what has made you happy for so long.  You have to reconsider this.  You have to reconsider everything, think about this purely for yourself, not for me.  And the best way to be sure that you do that is for me not to be here.”

“Fenris, stop that!  This _was_ my decision!”  Another futile effort to grab the illuminated hand.

“And this is mine.”  Fenris stepped back.  “This is the best I can do for you, Sebastian.  You have to choose to live for yourself, not for anyone else.  I should never have tried to tell you what to do.”

“So you’re going to just leave me?”  Sebastian’s eyes were impossibly large for a human, still blue as the sky overhead.  Fenris met them as carefully as he could.  “You’re going to take this decision away from me because you don’t think I understand the consequences of it??”

“I think I should have never been a reason for you to make a choice.  I’m sorry I ever brought this doubt into your life.” 

Sebastian clearly had further protests, but Fenris watched them die before being brought forth.  He stepped back from Sebastian, swallowing hard, then turning around quickly, his lyrium glow fading out as he walked as calmly as he could back towards the stairway, up into the part of Hightown with his mansion.  He didn’t look back, not even once, didn’t dare.  It was better this way.  Burning out the cuts always healed them faster, clearing out the rotting flesh of a long-infected wound saved the limb.  It was no different in matters such as this.

He didn’t allow himself to feel a thing until he was back in the mansion, and the door was locked behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> This just had to come out somewhere, and here it is. I don't know if I'll write anything to follow it up or not, but we'll see I suppose.


End file.
